Mouse had a problem he’d never thought he’d ever get the chance to experience.

He didn't know what to do with his money.

Never in his life did he ever think that he’d be able to gather more than a decade’s worth of pay in a few months, much less what he’d do with it.

The thought of renting Tall Tale’s best bed for a night at the Giant’s Cradle inn did have a certain appeal to it, but with winter getting deeper every day, it took little more than stepping outside the haunted door to change his mind. The biting wind tore through his heavy wool cloak, and stung his eyes till he feared they would freeze open. What's more, according to Demon, the path back down to the town was icy, and now twice as treacherous as it was coming up.

With Tall Tale basically closed off to him by the Winter’s harsh opening, his mind began to wander to the Shadowgates, and the possible destinations available to him.

He stood before the gates, observing the symbols over the doors, trying to discern their meaning. The three crowns were Canterlot, he knew that well enough, and the diamond mark was apparently the island outside of Manehatten.

The other doors were a bit of a mystery to him. One had a mark that looked exactly like a horseshoe, another was an arrow pointing south, the third mystery door was a strange bell-shape, while the fourth was a triangle with an open side. Beyond that, Mouse didn’t have a clue as to where they took him.

He sat there, staring up at the monoliths of darkness, trying to decipher their secret code when a voice called out to him.

“The shadows hide answers, Ghost, they do not offer them.”

Mouse was almost expecting Oracle, and he smirked as he turned back to the old earth pony. “You didn’t startle me this time.”

“To not be startled is one thing. To not be unnerved is another.”

Mouse didn't responded to that.

“The time has come again, another soul is destined to be sent to the void’s open maw,” Oracle said, before nodding towards his office. “Come.”

Mouse obeyed, following the pale pony up to his office, where the desk, and the Tome waited for him. Oracle quickly took a seat, and assumed his professional voice. “Do you know what a Runecaster is, Ghost?” he asked.

Mouse shook his head.

“Pegasi and Unicorns are not the only ones that can reach into the aether,” Oracle explained. “Earth ponies could also access magic, but through a much different means.”

An image of a young earth pony with a necklace of stones popped into Mouse's mind.

“By carving runes into rocks and bone, we too could manipulate the flow of mana, but at a much greater cost than either the cloudwalkers or the mountain sorcerers. The runes needed a source of power to run, and leeched off of the life around them to hold power.”

Another image of a single stone, surrounded by dead grass in a moonlit glade struck Mouse again.

“Only Earth ponies, then, with their unique, innate ability to cultivate the earth around them can use this magic without turning the land around them completely barren. Your mission, then, is to kill Stoneheart, a Runecaster that lives in the foothills East of Vanhoover.”

Mouse was silent.

“Do you understand?” Oracle asked.

Mouse nodded.

“Excellent, then kill the witch and make some money.”

“Actually,” Mouse began, “I’ve been meaning to ask something?”

“More questions the darkness cannot answer?” Oracle asked, his insanity dripping into the conversation at an increasingly quick rate.

“I have money now, but no way to spend it.”

Oracle raised an eyebrow.

“I mean, do I ask you to get something for me or…?”

“You haven’t gone to a shop?” Oracle asked.

Mouse blinked.

“You...you don’t need to go straight there and come straight back. You can take some time.”

Mouse said nothing.

Instead, he stood up, and walked out of the office.

He walked back in a moment later. “Which Shadowgate is Vanhoover?”

“The triangle, the open bay, rushing to the sea of the moon.”

“Right, thanks.”

Vanhoover was cold.

A great pine forest filled with snow hung just out of the light’s reach of the town, like a massive winter wolf prowling around unsuspecting ponies around a campfire.

Beyond the woods stood the great, northern mountains, massive, snow-covered sentinels of stone, guarding the town from whatever lay beyond them. A bitter, biting wind wafted down from the peaks, making the winter feel all the deeper and all the colder.

To the west, sat the calm North Luna Sea, named after the goddess of the moon, reflected its namesake with almost mirror-like clarity, sparkling under the night sky. The brilliant, cool sea crashed softly against the long, sloping beaches of Vanhoover, where a small armada of fishing ships sat beached in the sand.

To the east sat the unicorn range. Those mountains, while not as tall were just as impassible, and just as cold. At the foot of the unicorn range sat the foothills that Mouse had to scour for his latest target, as equally cold, but bare, and nearly glowing with the moonlight reflecting off the crystalline snow.

And finally, to the south, sat the only open road to the otherwise isolated town. Ghoul had warned him that the ponies in Vanhoover tended toward being the strong, independent kind, wary of strangers, and not terribly likely to open up to him. Mouse was mostly fine with that, honestly, and it was a strange reassurance that going to Vanhoover for a proper job wouldn’t have turned out well for him.

Walking out of the large, natural stone that was the other side of the Shadowgate, Mouse took a moment to take in the town and its surroundings before he made his way downtown, looking for a shop, and an inn.

He was rewarded with a tavern first.

The Unicorn’s Tail sat by the main street that bisected the town, and bore a sign with a proud, long tail attached to a mountain. Warm light spilled out from the windows and the crack beneath the door, and the sound of revelry echoed in the snow-covered street.

Mouse walked in, avoiding the singing crowd of ponies that were hogging the hearth. For the most part, they paid him no mind, keeping their focus in their songs and their drinks.

Walking past them, and stepping up to the bar, Mouse gave a curt nod to the bartender. The bartender nodded back, before Mouse dropped a silver bit on the table. “A drink, please.”

The bartender nodded, quickly sliding the silver coin towards his side of the counter, before offering him six copper pieces in change. A moment later, a frothing mug of ale was sat down in front of him, and Mouse eagerly took a deep drink.

It wasn’t terribly strong, but it was a passable drink, certainly.

“How much for a room?” Mouse asked, looking up from his drink.

“For the night? A gold bit.”

Mouse tossed the golden coin onto the counter, before following it with a handful of coppers. “You have some bread?”

“Baked this morning. They’re a bit cold now.”

“It’ll do.”

The bartender nodded, and ducked into the back room to get Mouse his meager meal, while his attention floated back to the carousing ponies behind him. They sang sea shanties between themselves, or retold deeds of village daring, while they gulped their drinks down as fast as they possibly could.

Mouse said nothing. He simply made himself aware of them, watching them while putting as little effort into it as possible. He didn’t need to know their names or their stories. He only needed to be aware of them. That was what Demon had taught him, stay aware. To ignore something is to invite it to kill you.

A moment later, and the bartender returned with a plate of surprisingly warm bread loaves. “I stuck these by the oven for a bit, it should help.”

Mouse nodded his thanks, and began to eat, when his ear twitched as a voice cut through his hearing.

“I shaw the Witch today, damned, sharding warlock,” one of the drunk ponies “whispered” to his friend.

“What about ‘em?” the other pony asked, equally as loud.

“Sheen ‘im move around a lot. Sheen him try and go ta tha Ca...ca...camucemorium.”

The second pony laughed, finding something incredibly humourous in the fact.

“Watsh sho funny?” the first asked, confused.

“Ish just...ish just…” the second one tried to answer through the laughs. “Ish just that you have a earth pony witch and a unicorn witch meeting each other at the shame time.”

The first stared at his friend for a second, before laughing himself, struck by the utter genius of that masterpiece of comedic gold.

Mouse stayed quiet, before he finished his bread, and retired for the night.

Wood’s Caducetorium was one of two magic shops in town, both with Lord Whitehoof as their patron. Specializing in wands, staffs, and other means of non-unicorn magic—because that’s apparently what caducetorium means—Oak Wood’s store was far more expensive than the already exorbitant magical armorer.

But, the armorer didn’t have a Runecaster visiting them, the Caducetorium did.

With all that in mind, Mouse decided he simply had no choice, and walked in.

“Hello, what can I do for you, sir?” A warm, wooden brown unicorn greeted.

“Perhaps, tell me, I have you seen an earth pony come by here? Short, green, mare?”

Oak furrowed his brow. “I can’t say I’m famili—”

“Goes by the name of Jade Stoneheart?”

Oak’s eyes went wide, before he immediately shifted his weight. His legs were bent, ready to pounce, and Mouse quickly read the untrained-fighting stance of the unicorn. “Who wants to know?”

“Hey, hey, hey now, calm down,” Mouse said, giving his best smile. “I don’t want to cause an issue. I’m looking to study under her.”

Oak’s squint became narrower, and his voice was almost a growl. “You? You want to study under Jade?”

Mouse kept going, trying to disarm the unicorn. “Look, look, I get it. What she does isn’t necessarily...approved of, but I need to learn.”

“And why does a unicorn need to learn an art that only earth ponies can use without killing everything around them?”

And that’s when Mouse let his smile fade. “I...I...I just need to, alright?”

“Why do you need to learn Runecasting?” He asked.

“Look, I just need to, okay?”

“No, that’s not okay,” Oak Wood said. “If you want to see her, then I need to know why.”

“Why? Are you her keeper or something?”

“She’s my friend,” he growled. “And there are enough ponies that want her dead for me to worry. So if you want to learn something as dangerous as Runecasting from her, then I need to know why before I even think about letting anypony near her.”

“I...I...I can’t do magic okay?”

Oak blinked. “What?”

“I can’t do magic. No talent for it, not even basic telekinesis,” Mouse said. “I just want a chance at...I just want to cast magic once.”

This was a bold-faced lie, of course, but considering that Mouse opened the shop door with his hooves certainly helped the lie, as did the long-handled earth pony shortsword at his side.

Oak blinked, unsure of how to process this new information. “I...have...have you thought of wands?”

“That’s far too much money,” Mouse said. “Besides, I heard they’re only good for a single cast.”

“No! No, no, no,” Oak quickly explained, trying to keep the pony that looked like he was moments away from bursting into tears. “No, wands recharge after some time, you don’t need to keep buying them.”

“But it’s not the same!” Mouse said, turning away from Oak’s gaze.

“It...no, you’re right, it’s not. But…” Oak began, fumbling over his words as he tried to process his customer. “I just...Runecasting is dangerous, far more dangerous than normal magic. It could kill you.”

“It’s my only chance!” Mouse said, tears welling in his eyes.

And Oak simply stared at this unicorn who couldn’t cast a spell, and finally answered him. “She’s east of here, past the pair of trees with one stump, and then head south along the brook. You’ll find her in the log hut.”

Mouse turned, still crying, but smiled as he stepped out of the shop.

Maybe he’d go to the armorer’s before he went to go visit little miss Jade.

The armorer was far less enthusiastic than Oak Wood was, but he did convince Mouse to buy a set of light, dark padded armor that was ever-so-slightly more resistant that he wore before. It meant he was a few hundred gold lighter, but it increased his chances of survival, so he wasn’t terribly worried.

Besides, he’d be paid enough in this one job to make it up.

He had to admit that he was, at first skeptical that layers of linen could offer much protection, and was surprised when the shop owner handed him a sword to test it. No matter how many times Mouse drew the blade across the gambeson, he could not cut deeper than a fraction of an inch.

Besides, considering the enchantment was to protect him against fire, it seemed like an excellent choice for fighting a Runecaster.

Drawing his cloak around his new, padded coat, Mouse slowly began to make his way through the snow and light trees of the eastern foothills.

The tall evergreens were widely spaced, but still an obvious presence at this point in the foothills, becoming less dense the further south they went.

Honestly, Mouse should have guessed she was in the northern hills, the trees offered more places to hide than the comparatively bare southern hills.

Keeping as close to the city as he could, Mouse slowly began to search for the landmarks that would take him straight to the Runecaster. As he walked, he used his magic to gently squeeze the handles of his magic-eating knives, just in case he had to protect himself from a stray lightning bolt.

He trod through the snow, leaving only footprints behind him, as he stood out like a massive shadow against the white sea that was the snow around him.

He trod along, heading directly East from the wand shop, until he finally saw it. Not fifty yards away, standing on the bank of a hill, was a pair of twin pines that had grown together into a single stump.

That was the tree, no doubt about it.

He was heading in the right direction.

Now all he had to do was head past them to the brook.

Snow began to drift down from above, creating a thin curtain of flakes that started to block his view. Mouse drew his cloak closer about him, sinking into the warmth of the dark wool.

He made his way past the old, massive tree, and as the snow began to fall faster now, hiding more of the world with each passing second, up to the point where Mouse couldn't see the faint glowing of something near the tree.

It took him a few hours to find the brook, but the second he did, he started heading south, just as Oak Wood had instructed. So far, things had been quiet, though the snow was far heavier now, making it far harder to see. The snow also made the world around him serenely silent in the way that only snow can. He could swear that his hooves didn’t even crunch in the snow beneath him as he moved.

The world around him was perfectly quiet.

And then a mare’s voice cut through the snow. “Fire!”

A roaring ball of flame shot towards Mouse with incredible speed, and Mouse barely had the time to raise his blade before he was engulfed in an inferno. The enchantment on his gambeson ate the heat, but it still burned him before he dropped into the snow.

Flames licked at the edge of his cloak, and he rolled through the banks of powder around him to put out the smaller flames as he drew both knives.

“Well,” the voice said as Mouse got back on his hooves, “I have to say, I am surprised that you’re still alive.”

The mare to the right, and even as Mouse turned to face her, she stood out from the trees to reveal her jade-green coat. She scowled at him as she stood, surrounded by small, floating stones that hummed faintly as their runes glowed.

Mouse said nothing, but held his knives high.

“So who sent you?” Jade Stoneheart asked bitterly. “Was it Barley, the baker? Or maybe Hopps, the brewer? Grave the gravekeeper? I know they all want me dead for some reason or another.”

Mouse gave her the faintest hint of a smile. “Killed one too many flower gardens did you?”

“And in return I blessed their fields,” she hissed. “I gave them life-giving runes that would make sure their crops grown strong for years to come, and I am cursed for it. Not that you would know, assassin.”

Mouse opened his mouth to retort, when the Runecaster spoke again. “Storm!”

Another runestone, crackling with electric power, unleashed a bolt of lightning, which shot into Mouse faster than he could blink, and with a deafening roar crashing into his ears. He was tossed back with the thunder, his muscles locking up and twitching as millions of volts shot through his body, leaving an almost paralyzed pony lying in the snow.

Mouse felt his heart flutter erratically, and quickly thanked Luna that his knife had caught most of the blow.

After a moment or two, Jade sighed. “I hope they were paying you well for this,” she said eventually. “Which means it was probably Summer. Barely’s too brave to let another pony fight his battle. Grave’s coward enough, but broke.”

Mouse remained still, waiting to see if she would move closer, playing dead was a strategy that worked all too well back when he was in prison. Of course, he quickly learned that it also only works once.

“Bury,” Jade commanded one of the runes around her.

It answered, and the ground beneath him started to churn and open up, putting the “body” in a hole that was quickly going to become a tomb.

Mouse leapt up, dropping the dead act, and reaching the lip of the hole. He quickly pulled himself up, and over the edge, and back into the snow. A second later, the earth snapped shut behind him, leaving nothing to mark where the hole had been.

Jade smiled. “You're not the first to try that, you know.”

Mouse didn't answer, but brought up his crescent knives up, ready for the worst.

“Blizzard!” she roared, and massive, spear-length, icicles came flying at him. Mouse rolled through the snow, and looked back in time to see the icy spears dig straight through a tree behind him, splitting the trunk in two.

“Never take your eyes off your enemy,” Demon’s voice echoed in his skull, and Mouse’s head snapped back just in time to see an oncoming boulder flying for him.

Mouse dived beneath it, wondering how he missed the spell name that time, before coming up to see a fireball coming at him.

One of the Twin Moons came up, slashing against the entire width of the flame, eating it whole.

“You’re doing well,” the Runecaster said with a sneer, before she yelled again. “Storm!”

Another lightning bolt shot toward him, arcing between the trees and the snow to striked him straight and true.

Mouse didn’t have the time to block, and he barely had the time to dodge, but he leapt, moving just out of the way of the bright beam of pain and death. It seared his cloak, gambeson, and flesh as it passed him by, and the thunder that boomed less than a half a second after the fact nearly made him deaf.

His ears rang, his heart pounded, his blood roared, and he rushed the spell-slinging mare before him.

She answered with another spell, one he did not hear over the ringing in his ears, before a wall of stone separated them. He had a moment to blink before the wall rushed him, barreling down toward the darker stallion like a tsunami of earth.

Mouse leapt to the side, diving into yet more snow before another flash and boom cut through the air, the thunderbolt searing the air above him.

Pulling himself up, Mouse was ready for another attack, but was surprised to see that one of the runestones floating around Jade fell to earth.

She spoke another spell, and a fireball flew at him at a breakneck speed. Leaping again, Mouse was caught by the edge of the blast, but his new armor simply absorbed the heat, leaving Mouse untouched, even though his cloak was now in tatters.

The ringing was starting to subside, and his hearing was coming back in bursts.

“...Ungrate...ools!...they kn...help them?”

Ranting. She was definitely ranting. Now the bigger question Mouse had was could he use that to his advantage? She was keeping her distance, attacking a range where she had the advantage, but was there any way he can use her ranting to get closer?

Mouse saw movement above him, and looked up to see the tree next to him swiping at him with its branches, trying to blow him over. He leapt gain, sure that he would make it, only for another fireball to shoot off to where he would land.

The moment he hit the snow, the fireball exploded, with Mouse at the epicenter.

His armor tried to mitigate the flames, but the heat was too great. He was thrown backwards into another tree, missing hair in places as the flames tried to catch on him fur and clothes.

The only thing that kept him from burning to a crisp was the armor, which repressed the smaller flames as they sprung up around him.

Mouse lay there for a moment or two, gasping for breath and hissing from the pain, trying to recover from the blow as the mare slowly approached, always staying out of arm’s reach.

“...have to say you did wel...aven’t had to fight like that in a long time...ven the trees are starting to wither.”

They were. Jade’s runes were starting to eat the life of the light forest around them, consuming the life of the pine trees around them, their evergreen branches turning sickly brown and curling on themselves.

Apparently Mouse was to take this as a compliment.

Mouse had not been beaten like this in a long time, and it was bringing memories to the forefront of his mind. The day a massive stallion beat him as a four-year-old for taking some bread. The time he was nearly drowned by two large prisoners for fun. The time he had been caught outside his cell and nearly beaten as a young stallion.

It all came to him.

“But now I think,” Jade said, “the time has come for you to go.”

Mouse looked up at the mare, and something happened to the assassin. Whenever he had dealt with a target that wasn't the guard, he felt nothing. Hate was something he reserved for the guard, those who had wronged him, but this mare…

This mare reminded him that it wasn't just the guards who hated him. His fellow prisoners hated him. Golden Shield from Baltimare hated him. Sap hated him. Dusk and Shade hated him. By Halden, Shade tried to kill him.

Equestria hated him. It always had.

And he was tired of bending over backwards for them.

“It’s nothing personal, it’s just that it’s too dangerous to let you live.”

No. It was personal.

This was his personal attack against every part if the world that hated him.

This was his personal stand against the spite that he had tried to embrace, if only for the fact that it wasn’t as bad as back in the prison.

This was his hatred against the world’s.

He lifted one of his knives and threw the crescent blade hard. It spun, appearing as the moon itself as it flew through the air in a move that Demon would definitely not approve of.

The blade struck true, digging into Jade’s shoulder as she began to cast her last runespell.

And Mouse brought all his hatred to bear.

He slashed with his free blade, closing the distance between the two of them in an instant, forcing her on the defensive for the first time in the whole exchange.

The silver moon sliced through the air, whistling as it passed. Its edge was so sharp that it didn’t even disturb the falling snow.

Mouse attacked, attacked, and attacked again. Grabbing his second knife with a telekinetic pull and yanking it free, the enraged unicorn began to use everything that Demon had taught him.

The untold hours of practice in the room finally paid off as he unleashed his fury into the Runecaster, attacking the head, the chest, and anything that could lead to a fatal strike.

If she moved to save her chest and heart, Mouse would slash her face. If she tried to save herself there, then her chest and flanks were open.

The runestones fell, their magic failing as her concentration was shattered.

And Mouse did not relent.

Blade to chest. Point to nose. Stab at the heart. Pommel to throat.

Back and back, Mouse pushed her, growing as his eyes saw red, and his fury burned so bright that he didn’t feel his wounds.

She tripped over a root, and the burned assassin pounced, pinning her to the ground with her weight as he brought his blades down again and again and again.

Jade’s forelegs came up to protect her, doing her best to save herself from the bladed fury of the thing that was pinning her down.

The snow continued to fall.

He slashed along her face, forelegs, and shoulders, before he tried to get his blade beneath her skin to cut her chest open.

She threw one last kick at him, and he answered by stabbing her in the heart.

Her forelegs dropped, and assassin stabbed again.

Again and again. Left knife, right knife, both knives, all into the chest of the body that lay in the snow under him.

Again.

Again.

Again.

And again.

He gasped for breath, before stabbing one more time.

Another ragged breath, and he pulled both blades free.

He breathed heavily, tired, exhausted, and furious.

He wasn’t going to stand for it.

Not anymore.

He wasn’t going to roll over to anyone. Not the guards, not the people, no one.

He wasn’t a mouse to be played with before the cat ate him.

He was a force of death and vengeance.

He was a shadow on the wall, a poisoned chalice. He was a reaper of souls, a blade that cut life short. He was an assassin, he made nations shake.

He was a Ghost, a servant of the Void.